The Almighty Dominance

One hour later, Alex and Josephine stepped onto the rooftop lounge.

The city stretched out around them, glittering like spilled diamonds.

The place was sleek, stylish-soft music in the air, groups of friends sipping drinks, laughing, pretending to live in a dream.

"Josephine! Over here!"

A man shot to his feet the moment they entered, waving with far too much eagerness.

His eyes clung to Josephine like a starving dog to a bone, the kind of hunger so raw it made everyone in the lounge turn and notice.

Alex traced the sound through the crowd, his gaze sharp, weighing each face.

Then one figure cut through the noise of strangers, impossible to ignore-she glowed like a peacock flaunting its feathers in full display.

She was stunning.

Youthful, delicate, her oval face shaped like fine porcelain, her features so refined they seemed sculpted by careful hands.

She wore innocence like a crown, polished and flawless, a purity so perfect it almost blinded.

One glance from her could hook a man's soul and drag him under.

But Alex wasn't fooled. He saw the truth flicker in her eyes.

The sweetness was nothing but a mask, a role she had mastered long ago. She didn't just attract attention-she hunted it, fed on it, lived for it.

Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many.

But not the few who know where to look.

"Sorry we're late," Josephine said brightly, though her body stiffened under the stares.

She plastered on a smile, forcing warmth where discomfort hid. Then, with deliberate boldness, she hooked her arm through Alex's.

"Everyone, this is Alex." Her lips curved into a mischievous grin. "My boyfriend."

The word dropped like a stone in a glass pond. Silence rippled across the group. Several men's faces twisted, their eyes hard with envy, hostility flickering like flames.

Josephine ignored them. She tugged Alex forward, guiding him straight to the radiant girl.

Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's Giselle. She grew up with me in the orphanage, but a wealthy family adopted her. Even back then, she was too beautiful to be ignored."

Facing the girl, Josephine's smile widened. "Alex, this is Giselle Laurent. The country's rising star. Millions already adore her."

"Jo, don't exaggerate." Giselle pouted, feigning humility. "I'm just a beginner. Still a long way from fame."

slipping an arm over her shoulder like an old

unearthly. As a newcomer, you've already taken home the

of time before you rise even higher-you'll be a star faster

bestie since we were kids!"

outsider here? This place is reserved for people

cut in, her lips curling with

and you bring a stranger? What if he's some obsessed fan who starts snapping pictures and splashes them all over social media? One slip like

fine," Giselle replied smoothly, not a crack in her smile. "If he's Josephine's

soured. “I don't. He doesn't

boyfriend fights better than

thug? A bodyguard? Fighting means nothing today. Wealth. Connections. That's

resentment plain

too high, always out of reach, her world closed off

Josephine-just as beautiful, just as angelic, but

for years, only to be shut out

now, seeing her openly claim another man before his eyes—it burned through

on. "Martin's right. This stranger doesn't fit in. Giselle's too kind to tolerate someone like

had a soft heart," another

it like gold. Maybe that's all this

men were already glaring at Alex,

eyes carried

quickly, her tone sharp but smooth, desperate to

all here, let

they knew better than to push further when Giselle was the

risk being cast out of her circle. Reluctantly, they pulled back, forcing fake smiles and muttering as they

been ages since I've heard Giselle sing," one man said, sucking up fast. "We're in for a

Giselle, hurry up! Don't keep us waiting," another

and Giselle stepped forward with

onto the stage, the rooftop lights catching her flawless skin, her

lounge. Even strangers-powerful-looking VIPs nursing expensive whiskey in the

beauty is stealing the spotlight," one

beneath the lights, the room

hungry. And when she opened her mouth to sing, her voice cut through the night

pure, so entrancing, it froze the crowd in place. Even

world, had to

note faded, the rooftop exploded

clapped

a man swaggered onto the stage, his cheap cologne

he drawled, leering. "Lucky night for you.

You'll get everything you've ever

smile faltered. "I'm sorry, I can't

sweetheart. You're just a singer. Everyone's got a price. Name it. My boss is loaded You should be grateful thank your guardian angel for putting